The Other Archangel
by MonotonousMagi
Summary: After Sammy is kidnapped, Dean is left to hunt alone while Cas promises to retrieve him. Upon finding a girl at the side of the road, the two become hunting buddies. But what happens when Castiel and Sam return and Castiel recognizes her as much more than just a human?
1. Chapter 0

Chapter 0- Flight of The Fallen

I was falling.

No constriction, no rules, no specific destination, except for 'away.' This was better than flying, even. No control. No worries. Just wind slashing around my face, trying to exhilarate me even more. Above me, the open blue I was trying so hard to rid myself of, and below me was the ground, rushing up to meet me, with it's trees and cities, it's marred but beautiful surface glowing with enthusiasm and light. It was unique, different, formed by a force without boundaries or loyalties. Nothing was specifically created for a certain purpose, but everything had one. The dirt took it's last few bounds to meet with me, and when it collided, I crumpled in pain.

And I was relieved.

The rain pattered across the windshield of the mud-spattered Impala, forcing the older Winchester to crank on the wipers. _Dammit, Cas, hurry up already. It's been two weeks. _He adverted his attention from the dark band of highway to glare at the empty passenger's seat. He kept waiting for it to be suddenly occupied, but no matter his prayers, or the prayers of anyone, for that matter, the upholstery remained vacant. A glance in the rearview mirror revealed the back to be void of life as well, a shotgun sitting on the floor of the car his only company.

Miles passed, signs flew by, the hours went on without incident, until the first rays of light shot across the horizon, illuminating the hungry blackness. He slowed upon spotting an unsettlingly humanoid mass crumpled along the side of the road. When he noticed it was an actual person, he slammed the brakes and yanked the Impala onto the gravelly highway shoulder.

The door groaned open, then slammed shut, and the asphalt crunched under Dean's boots as he rushed over to the unfortunate figure. "Hey, you alive?" He touched her shoulder, turning her over from her side to her front, then checking her pulse.

She was alive. In addition, Dean noticed, she was pretty hot. Of course, that didn't mean Dean wasn't going to make sure she wasn't a demon or some other form of horrifying monster. He splashed her with holy water, sprinkled salt on her face, gently prodded her with a silver knife, all to no effect.

Finally deciding that she meant no harm, he gently scooped the unconscious girl into his arms and swept her into the backseat of his baby. "Hey, I'm gonna get you some help, okay?"

He sighed as he pressed the door closed quietly. _I'm talking to a comatose chick I found on the side of the road. Sammy, you'd better get your ass back here, 'cos I'm going nuts._ Dean Winchester turned the key in the ignition, and the Impala roared to life. He glanced at the rearview mirror again to see the strawberry blonde girl move her arms into a more comfortable position, and he could swear that for just a moment, there was a large shadow across the back seat before the sun ducked behind a cloud. A shadow that slightly resembled a pair of wings.

End Chapter 0


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1- Hey, Sammy

"Dean. Where did you go?" Lizzie darted around another corner of the twisting bunker halls. He couldn't possibly have gone far with those crutches, not when he kept falling with them.

It was the sound of an exasperated curse that allowed her to pinpoint his location. The door of one of the many storage rooms hung open, and Dean was splayed on the floor inside, crutches skittered across the floor and out of his reach.

"Sonovabitch! Dude, this sucks." He grumbled when he noticed Lizzie had found him. She giggled at the thought of the elite hunter being helpless on the floor, and hauled him back up on his feet, seemingly without effort.

"You need to go slower, there, Deano," She said as she handed him the crutches. "You'll end up making that ankle even worse, and as far as I can tell, you aren't exactly a fan of these things."

Dean took them gingerly. "I'm not sure how much more of this crap I can take. On top of which, we aren't working any cases, and people could be dying as we speak."

"You're not the only hunter in the world, and I'm sure that the world's not gonna end before you're all healed up. It's only three more weeks."

"Hey, you're not the one who's tripping over their own feet here. This is friggin' killing me, man." He rolled his eyes as he hobbled over to a table crammed between racks of file boxes and Men of Letters paraphernalia. He managed to wrestle a chair into a position that he could easily use it, and plunked down at the table in front of a stack of dusty charmed boxes. "Anyway, I guess I may as well sort some of this crap and be some sort of useful. Hey, Lizz, are you gonna go on a grocery run today? Don't forget the pie."

Lizzie rolled her eyes. "Like you'd let me back in the bunker without pie, Dean. Be back in thirty." She grabbed him another stack of boxed weapons, and closed the door of the storeroom behind her, muttering for him to be careful while she was out.

Barely ten minutes had passed by the time Dean had dozed off, his head propped up on an open hand, elbow firmly planted onto the table. He stirred to the sound of a door being slammed shut from somewhere inside the compound. Figuring it must be Lizzie, he merely rubbed his eyes and went back to sleep.

"Jesus, Dean?" A voice sounded in the back of Dean's mind, and he slowly realized someone was prodding him awake. He opened his eyes sleepily to find a pair of concerned hazel ones staring back at him. "Hey, man. What the hell happened to you?"

Dean jolted awake, a wave of adrenaline coursing through him. "Sammy? I was wondering when you'd come back, little brother. Where's Cas?"

Sam shrugged. "He said he heard a noise. I said he was being paranoid, but he wandered off anyway." One of the crutches that had been leaning precariously against the table started to slide, and Sam caught it and chuckled. "Anyway, how did you get all gibbled?"

Dean shook his head. "Dude, it sounds lame, but I got hit by a truck."

Sam raised his eyebrows in surprise. "So you were drunk and not looking where you were going... ?"

He chuckled. "I wish. When I say I got hit by a truck, I mean I got one chucked at me. Damn lucky, too. If that thing had slid another few inches, it would've been way worse. But don't worry, we gutted that demon before it could get away."

Sam's eyebrows hitched higher. "We?"

There was suddenly a loud crash from down the hall.

End Chapter 1


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2- New Hellos to Old Friends

_A/N:: Hi. I'm Mono. This is my first published fic, so I hope it's not too too bad. I apologize for the first two chapters being so short. I shall try to lengthen them from now on. Also, I was wondering if you guys wanted Destiel/Sabriel? Yes/no? If you wannu, just leave a note in the review portion. Thank you! Also, as a heads-up, Chuck will be God in this fic, so I hope you don't mind. But I suppose if you do, you don't have to read it if you don't want to. One more thing, I just want to thank you for reading. My writing is a bit rusty, so it should get better as the chapters progress. Otherwise, enjoy!_

Dean and Sam walked or hobbled their way(in Dean's case) into the kitchen to find Castiel and Lizzie staring at each other, each surprised as the other. The remnants of a shattered bowl lay on the floor between them, likely dropped by Lizzie.

Sam looked at the pair with concern before turning to Dean. "Who is that, and what is she doing here?"

"That would be my new partner in crime. I was driving down the road a couple weeks back, and found her laying on the side of the road." He rolled his eyes at the look his little brother gave him then, like Dean had picked up a peppermint off the floor as if to eat it. "No, Sammy, she's not a monster. She's a hunter. She pretty much saved my life."

Castiel had finally decided to break the staring contest. "Elizabeth?"

"Cassie. I told you not to call me that." Lizzie eventually said. She smiled proudly. "It's really good to see you. I hear you went all rebel on the big angels upstairs."

"I thought you were dead." Cas performed his signature head tilt of confusion. "Where have you been?"

Lizzie shrugged. "Oh, you know, in the darkest depths of Heaven's dungeon since I don't even know how long ago. I suppose that's what happens when you try to reason with Michael while he's in one of his moods."

Cas inspected her a few seconds more, trying to decide whether she was real or not, and when he was satisfied that he wasn't going insane, he closed the distance between them and hugged her. Not an intimate hug, but the sort of hug one would give their sibling when they came from college to visit for the holidays, one when they haven't seen each other for months.

Dean cleared his throat. "Well, sorry to break up the teary little reunion thing you two have got going on, but what the hell is happening here?"

"Right, totally a hunter." Sam grinned smugly as he looked down at his older brother.

"Shut up, Sam," Dean grumbled.

Cas briefly narrowed his eyes at the crutch-ridden Winchester. "Dean, you're injured. Allow me to assist you." He stepped away, looking at Lizzie with something that resembled a confused glare, then walked over to inspect Dean.

Sam took this chance to interrogate the strange chick who had been hanging around his brother for the last two weeks, and was most likely living in the bunker, as well. "So, you're an angel, then? I'm just throwing this out here, but maybe that might've been a good thing to tell Dean?"

Lizzie pursed her lips, looking down to avoid Sam's gaze. "It's not like my telling him would have helped any. In fact, I've heard some about you two. You don't like angels, although I can't say I'm quite fond of the majority of my lesser brethren either."

"So you led him on so you could be pitied or something?" Sam said quietly, attempting to chew her out without the notice of Dean or Cas. "Don't get me wrong, I'm just trying to understand why you committed what is in my brother's eyes an act of treason."

Lizzie glared at him, and it freakily reminded him of one of Cas' glares, the kind that he or Dean was given when they tried to scorn Cas for what Cas believed to be the right thing to do. "I was merely trying to befriend the two of you. I promise you that is all."

There was a whoop from across the room as Dean tossed his crutches on the floor and kneeled down to take off his ankle support. "Thanks, Cas. You have no idea what a relief it is to be able to freaking walk."

"I suppose not." Cas chuckled, then turned back to Lizzie. "Alright, one down, one to go, as I believe the saying goes." The brothers looked at Cas curiously before he elaborated. "What did you do to your wing, Elizabeth?"

"That, my baby brother, is a bit of a long tale. Of course, you've always been enamored with my storytelling, haven't you?" Lizzie smiled.

"You always were the best at writing, Elizabeth. You even taught the humans to do so." Castiel nodded, reliving some old memory.

Dean shook his head. "Wait, I thought Metatron was the obsessed writer of the angels."

Lizzie look exasperated. "Metatron? Are you kidding? That moron could barely write a coherent sentence. On top of which, he was a jerk." She rolled her eyes. "I suppose though, that it was because of his weaboo-like qualities that made Father pick him to write those tablets. At least it shut his trap for a couple centuries. I was the real talent, though. Like how Gabriel was so good at acting, and how Michael could paint, draw, or sculpt anything, or how Lucifer could charm anyone with a variety of musical instruments. Remember how Hermes tricked Apollo and invented the lyre and eventually traded it for all of Apollo's cattle? Yeah, actually Lucifer came up with the idea."

Sam shook his head. "Okay, we are veering off topic, here. Can we go back to the wing thing, please? And also, if you are an angel, why didn't you just heal Dean instead of listening to his whining?"

Lizzie sighed. "I would have healed him, but I can't. I don't have any grace left."

The entire room looked at her in shock.

Lizzie smiled sheepishly at the attention. "Well, I suppose I should start from the beginning, huh?" Sam nodded slowly. "Okay, I guess I'll bore you with tales of all us archangels."

_The last two chapters have been mostly dialogue. 0_o I promise the next one will have more action. Also, this chapter was pretty short too, wasn't it? Like half as long as it probably should be. Well, next chapter you get a little peak at the whole circle of archangels, and probably Cas. And maybe some truck-throwing, if I get that far. There will probably be angst. Maybe that will come up with a larger word count. _

End Chapter 2


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3- The Good Old Days

_In case you were wondering, the whole chapter is a flashback so I didn't bother putting it in italics or anything._

Lizzie batted his hand away as it curiously wandered to the most recent page laid on top of the stack. "No spoilers, even for you, Gabe."

"Aw, you're no fun at all, sis. I bet you let Raphael read it." Gabriel teased. "Is it gonna be done soon?"

"Maybe." The older archangel rolled her eyes with a smirk. "If you're patient. The newest angels are more patient than you, and you're how many millennia older?" Gabe made a reach for the page again, but she used her quill to splatter him with ink.

"Only a couple hundred." He grinned as he wiped the black off with the back of his hand. He waited a few seconds before sighing again. "Oh, c'mon, Liz. Can't I read a little of the play? You're writing it for me, after all."

"No, you can't read it. I may end up scrapping half of it, anyway. And stop whining, it's a bad influence on your smaller siblings."

"Excuse you, but I happen to be the best influence on everyone everywhere," He smirked enthusiastically. Lizzie shook her head in amusement as he materialized a lollipop and stuck it in his mouth.

"Oh, please, Gabriel. You're too lazy to be influential." Lucifer joked as he appeared behind him, smiling. "I mean, look at Michael. He's always busy training the little ones, and Raphael's down on Earth doing his little trick with the plants. And you are eating candy and bugging Lizzie."

"I don't see you doing much either, Luci." Gabe said with a mouthful of candy. "Are you just jealous that I have candy? You want some?" He held out a lollipop to the eldest archangel, who took it after he looked behind him to make sure Michael didn't catch them slacking off.

Lucifer pulled the candy out of his mouth before he spoke again. "What are you writing, Lizzie?" He asked as she wrote on the pages with her perfect handwriting.

"Are you guys slacking off again?" Michael appeared behind Gabriel, who jumped a foot in the air. "Why must you three insist on trying to be the poorest possible excuses for archangels?" He muttered as he rubbed his temples. His three sets of silvery wings dragged slightly on the ground in disappointment.

"It's more fun than being a stuck-up pencil pusher?" Gabe offered. "Just chill, Mikey. Here, have some candy," He shoved a hard candy into Michael's mouth, who looked very displeased. At least until he allowed himself to taste it. Michael's wings perked up as he rolled it around his mouth.

"What is this?"

"It's a peppermint. You eat it 'cos it tastes good."

"Hmm. It does taste good. Anyway, Gabriel, I did come for a reason. Seeing as you are unbeatable in flight only by me, and I currently do not possess the time to help him individually, I was wondering if you could assist one of the angels. He appears to be having more trouble than the rest." Michael stepped aside to reveal an angel who had previously not been visible.

The angel hadn't even secured himself a real vessel yet, and still inhabited one made by their Father. Flat, dark hair partially covered darker eyes, and tanned skin gave him the appearance of a slim desert-dwelling boy. Tattered midnight blue wings trailed limply behind him.

Lucifer cocked his head at the little angel, with an almost mischievous smile. "Those are cool wings. I guess Father decided to experiment a little, huh? It's a shame they're so messy. What happened?"

The angel remained silent, obviously wary about talking to a group of the highest-ranking angels, so Michael spoke up. "I'm not entirely sure, but he said it was nothing. I can barely get him to talk."

Gabe grinned. "Well, I can get anyone to open up. Right, kiddo?" He held out another lollipop to the angel. "Want one?" He looked at the candy, but instead of taking it like Gabe had hoped, he instead tilted his head like a confused puppy. "C'mon, kid. I'm a nice guy, right?" Lucifer snorted in the background. "Shut up, Luci."

"Guys, I'm sure you're freaking him out." Lizzie rolled her eyes. "You're all so tall, except for Gabe, who is terrifying in his own ways." Gabe looked at her with mock insult. She ignored him and offered the small angel a seat beside her. "Come here. Do you like to read?" The angel nodded, and walked over after a hesitant pause, sitting on the grass in a cross-legged fashion beside her. She smiled gently at him and gave him a couple pages of the play.

"Hey," Gabe whined again. "How come I don't get to read it, but the little kid does?"

"Because the little kid is being far better behaved than you. Whiny archangels don't get to read." Lizzie gave the angel another page, which tantalized Gabriel further. The little angel read it happily, and smiled.

Lucifer chuckled at Gabriel's dilemma. "Looks like Lizzie is far better at getting people to open up than you, Gabe. Should I get you a white van?"

"It's good." The angel said suddenly, returning the translucent sheets to Lizzie. He had a quiet, low-pitched voice, but it was steady and strong at the same time.

Lizzie beamed. "Thank you. Hey, you never told me your name. What is it?"

The angel looked down nervously. "Castiel."

Lizzie tilted his head back up gently so she could look him in the eyes. "I'm Elizabeth. Now, what did you do to your wing, Castiel?"

Thunder cracked in the distance as a variety of miscellaneous objects were swiped off the table across the grass. Among them was a handmade book.

"Michael, calm down."

Michael glared at her dangerously. "And why would I do that?" Lighting swiped across the darkening sky in response to his anger. "First, my brother betrays us, and no doubt he was the one who killed Gabriel, and now Father's abandoned us! What possible reason could you offer for me to refrain from burning that whole planet down just to spite him?"

Lizzie looked him dead in the eyes. "Because he loves them. And that thinking is exactly what got Lucifer into the position he's in. I won't watch you succumb to the same jealousy."

Michael slammed her into the brick wall of the Gardens, his blade leaving a faint red line as it pushed against her collarbone. "You shut your mouth. You have no say in what I do. Do not meddle in my affairs, or you will die at my hands."

"Michael, you're pushing this too far. What do you propose to do, be the new God?" Lizzie snapped back. "If that's the case, then go ahead and kill me, because you've already gone past the point of no return."

That really ticked Michael off. "How dare you!" He yelled as he flung her across the path, cracking sounds echoing from her ribs. "I am trying to bring order! Without Father or that poor excuse for an older brother, Heaven will be in shambles without my authority. Why can you not see things the way I do? Even your little pet Castiel would be lost with no instruction."

Lizzie lay sprawled on the ground, a pair of wings curled around her stomach in pain. "Oh, and how do you think they would react to the news that Father's gone?"

"They do not need to know. It does not concern them." He said simply. "I do not wish to kill you if it is not necessary, but something must be done to ensure that you do not create an uprising. I apologize for this." Michael looked sincerely apologetic as Raphael grabbed Lizzie from behind and rendered her unconscious.

"What do you want me to do with her?" Raphael asked as he carefully held his big sister.

"Throw her in a cell somewhere. One that's a pain to get to. We'll tell the others the same fate befell her as Gabriel." Michael turned away, picking up a book that he had tossed on the ground. Upon opening it, he found the elaborate pages filled with plays, written by Lizzie. He chucked the book behind a fountain before he walked away.

Raphael bit his lip as he followed Michael's orders. He would continue to follow his orders as such for many years to come.

"Hey. Come on, talk to me. I know you're there." The melancholy voice came from the next cell. There was a brief pause before he started up again. "Seriously, though. You've been here for a while and I don't even know who you are. I haven't had anyone to talk to in ages, and to be honest, you must have something good to say if you're down here with me. I mean, you don't have to say anything if you don't want to, I just thought as long as you're down here..."

Lizzie sighed. "You never used to prattle on like this, Gadreel. I think you may have a few screws loose."

She could almost hear Gadreel reel in shock. "Elizabeth? Who put you down here?"

"Michael. He wasn't too pleased after Father ditched us." Lizzie rolled her eyes, even though Gadreel wouldn't have seen it. "I tried to talk some sense into him, but he was adamant on leading the angels around so he threw me down here."

"Oh."

"So, what have you been doing down here?"

It was Gadreel's turn to sigh. "Apparently, losing my sanity. Other than that, there's not much else to do."

"True, and I don't think we're going to get out of here anytime soon."

Eventually, the hours started running into one another, and Lizzie couldn't make out any measurement of time at all. She and Gadreel chatted, because there wasn't much else to do. They never saw another living thing until the fall.

_Phew. That took a long time to be able to write. I hope it didn't seem like I'd abandoned the story or anything. I've been inundated with schoolwork the last week, but this is the last week of school before the holidays, so that should seriously free up my time. Thank you for waiting, though. I hope you like it. Next time, vehicles get thrown across streets! _

End Chapter 3


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter 4- Of More Recent Endeavors

_Didn't I say this wasn't going to take as long to write? Wow, I suck. Sorry~~~~~ Please forgive me._

"You sure you up to this? Demons are a big step from your normal ghosts and crap." Dean looked at her almost protectively, hand curled around the top of the steering wheel of his baby.

She nodded. "Don't worry, I've got this. It'll be a piece of cake." She had finally recovered from the fall, and had gotten used to being a bit powerless. She wondered if the other angels had coped as well to losing their grace. Dean had been taking her on easier hunts, but there had been a demon in the next town that he felt he should deal with.

"Geez, I wish I had your optimism," He muttered. "Anyway, come on, 'Agent Mendel.' We got some bodies to gape at so we can find this thing and gank it." The door made it's usual creaking noises, which weren't a sign of neglect, merely an indicator of it's bygone era.

"Alright, Agents. I'm not sure what exactly you could get off of what's left of the corpse," The young woman said in her irksome nasal tone, "But if you two think it's so important, by all means."

"We wouldn't be here if we didn't think looking at the corpse was important, but thanks for checking that we were a hundred percent sure we thought it was anyway." Dean said facetiously with a bright smile. The platinum-haired woman rolled her makeup-caked eyes and practically threw the autopsy report at Dean before she stalked away with the clacking that can only be associated with unbelievably high heels, checking her two-inch nails in depth. You could hear her bubblegum popping in the distance just before the large, sterile metal doors slammed shut.

"That was a little rude, no?" Elizabeth turned to him as he cracked open the folder. It smelled strongly of fruity perfume.

Dean shrugged. "Whatever. Did you see her? I don't think she could be wearing a lower-cut shirt." He rifled through the sheets inside, looking for the drawer number while he muttered something about how hookers should stick to being hookers.

The stench of sulfur permeated the inside of the drawer, making even the experienced hunter stifle a gag. "I'm not sure that they are ever getting that reek out of here." He commented, breathing through his mouth. The corpse itself wasn't an improvement. The demonic odor wafted up, tangled with the indescribably horrid stench of three-week-old rotting flesh. Flesh was most of what remained in the small plastic box keeping the remains from rolling off the metal slide-out table. Whatever bones that may have been there had been fished or torn out from layers of muscle and skin, and sat apart from the lump of epidermis.

"What the hell is wrong with demons, man?" Dean complained. "According to the autopsy, because apparently there was actually enough left for an autopsy, all the bones were torn from the body while the vic was still alive. There aren't any cut marks, and it actually goes into detail about how it looks like the bones were ripped out with sheer force." He turned a little green.

"I don't think it's worth it to play "Guess Whose Daddy Didn't Hug Them Enough When They Were Little" with demons. They're all equally bizarre." Lizzie shrugged. "Hey, are you okay?"

Dean nodded. "Oh, yeah, fine. I just love looking at decimated uni students in the morning." He flipped to another page in the report, attempting in vain to keep his mind off of the unfortunate girl. "Anyway, let's see, corpse was at one point a chick. Cute one, too. She was twenty-four, studying to be a doctor, name was Caroline."

"I used to have a friend called Caroline. I hope she didn't turn out something like this. Actually, I haven't had a chance to see her for a long time." Lizzie pondered aloud.

"Dude, you must have an iron stomach, to be inspecting a pile of body parts like that." Dean scrunched up his nose. "You're worse than Sam."

Lizzie shrugged. "Unfortunately, I've seen worse. I can't say I enjoy seeing people torn up like this, but I imagine that you'd understand if I say I've built up a tolerance to it over the years." She looked over at Dean, who nodded quietly before he looked back at the autopsy report.

"Hey," He grabbed at her pinstripe coat sleeve. "Tell me if this looks like different handwriting to you." He showed her the front page of the file, and then flipped to a later page, holding up a written-in form near the end.

"Yeah, it does look like it was written by two different people." She leaned in, her face close to the crisp paper as her eyes pored over the minor variations of the writing. She grabbed the folder out of Dean's hands, much to his protest. "There's usually a sticky in here or something if somebody gets fired during one of these, I believe. Of course, it doesn't happen often, so I'm not entirely sure." She made a small noise of satisfaction as she peeled a bright green sticky note off one of the pages. "'Fired newbie Sarah McCarthy. Boy, must she have some mental problems to sort out.' That's a little informal to stick in an official document, isn't it?" Lizzie rolled her eyes. "I don't understand some people."

"Does it say why the boss thought she had a few screws loose?"

"It makes no mention on the sticky note of why the woman's cheese had slipped her cracker. And some genius whited out all of Sarah's writing on the form. Great. I guess we'll have to ask her ourselves."

"I understand that you're here about that poor woman who got slaughtered, Agents Mendel and Grohl. What I don't understand," Sarah paused as she poured them the tea she insisted on giving them, "Is why you're asking me. Surely, they finished the autopsy report?"

"Yes, they did," Dean said smoothly. "But we'd like to hear your account too. Would you mind?"

Sarah sighed, placing the teapot on the oaken coffee table, looking as worn as the leather sofa she sat on and making a little 'oh' with her mouth. "Okay, you want the story from the girl with the bats in her belfry. I guess you heard it from that slut who works the desk whose been talking about me to everyone in town. I can't even get work at the bloody Gas-N-Sip, and they're begging for help.

"Anyway, the reason I got fired was not because I was insane. I know, insane people don't know they're insane, but I freaking swear that there weren't any bones in that box when I did the autopsy."

"There weren't any bones? Maybe somebody found them after and put them in the box when you weren't at work?" Lizzie offered helpfully.

"No, it's not possible. I locked the drawer and only the boss and I had the key. Actually, I still have the key. When I did the autopsy, there wasn't a femur in there. I swear. I went to college, I got my degree, I did my internship, I think I would know if there was or wasn't a femur in the cadaver I was inspecting. There was just a pile of flesh there. It took me an hour to rearrange it into a human shape. I wrote the report and turned it in, and I know, I swear I know that I locked that drawer. I come back in the morning to find the boss pissed at me that I missed a femur. An entire femur." She finished, out of breath with a wild look in her eyes. A strand of hair had fallen out of place and hung in front of her face.

"Wait, did you say that a femur was the only bone in that box the morning you got fired?" Dean looked at her, suddenly very serious.

"Yes, why?"

Dean shook his head. "Because, there's at least six bones in that box."

Sarah paled as she dropped the tea cup onto the rug underneath her feet, the lukewarm liquid seeping into the fibers. "Oh my god. What does that even mean? The boss is the murderer and putting extra bones in the box as a kill signature or something? Have I been working for a psycho?"

"I don't know, but I intend to find out." Dean replied, getting up. "We'll call if we need more information. Good luck on that job hunt."

"So, do you think she's a nut job or something's getting the band back together?" Dean asked as Lizzie closed the car door.

"It's hard to tell, and we have no idea if it's going to continue..." She made a vague gesture with her hands. "Doing whatever this is."

Dean sighed. "Well, I don't think it's going to start freaking out on us this minute. We may as well just check tomorrow. More importantly, I am freaking starving, so let's go find something to eat."

"Alright, I'm game with that."

"Alright, so what do we have, exactly?" Dean asked as he took his food from the skinny waitress with a flirty grin. "Because I think we need to sort some of this crap out."

Lizzie pulled a crumpled-up sheet of A4 paper she had stolen from the coroner's office out of the pocket of her jeans. She carefully flattened it out, revealing an intricate series of pen lines, featuring her flawless handwriting, perfectly drawn arrows, and square, straight boxes around tidbits of information. "Okay, so we have one dead body. I searched around, nobody has died from anything more severe than one case of the flu for months. The body was ripped apart with great force, apparently the missing bones are 'reappearing', we have no suspects as of yet, a definitely strong demon, and at least one psycho coroner."

Dean nodded as she finished. "Damn, you have neat handwriting. Actually, it looks kind of familiar..." He squinted at the page. "I swear I have seen writing like that somewhere before." He swore under his breath as his phone vibrated in his pocket. "Hello, Agent Grohl speaking." He stated flatly in his most agent-like voice as he rolled his eyes. They quickly filled with alarm though, presumably as the person on the other end of the line spoke. "Alright, we'll be right there. Don't do anything stupid, okay?" He practically jumped out of the seat, dragging Lizzie behind him.

"What happened?"

"That whore from the coroner's is getting attacked. Come on."

Dean burst through the door, gun in one hand, demon knife in the other. The secretary squeaked as the two lumbering men gripped her tighter, threatening to snap bones. Dean pointed his pistol at them. "Let her go, asshats." He sounded more exasperated than angry, but just as dangerous. They smirked as they flashed their black eyes, their hold on the blonde tightening. A crack echoed across the room and she screamed. "Now now, let's not be hasty here." He quipped, before he flung the knife in their direction. The pair of demons stiffened, bracing for the impact, but it instead flew past their heads into the hands of Lizzie, who was directly behind them. She snatched the handle out of the air and lodged the blade into the back of one of the demons. The corpse crackled as she yanked it out and shanked the other one.

Dean was there to grab the secretary girl before she fell. "You okay?"

She smiled weakly. "You weren't this nice this morning. A little bipolar, are we?"

"Hey, is that the kind of thing you normally say to the handsome men who save your truthfully good-looking ass?" Dean joked.

"Can we flirt a little later?" Lizzie asked. "I'm sorry, but even I don't want to be stuck trying to explain two extra cadavers who aren't in metal boxes."

The secretary smirked as her own eyes flashed black, flinging Dean against a wall with a flick of her wrist. "Who said anything about two? By the time I'm done, there should be five bodies in this festering, germ-ridden body fridge." Lizzie attempted to gut the blonde with the knife, but a similar hand motion sent her too flying into a wall. She whimpered as her wings crunched underneath her back, unbeknownst to the human in the room. "Oh poor you. I bet you don't like feeling powerless, huh Wonder Woman?" The demon mocked. The demon-killing knife clattered as she kicked it down the hall from where Lizzie had dropped it. "Shall I kill your little boyfriend first? Maybe I'll eat him. I hear humans are low in carbohydrates, and nice and high in fatty acids."

"Go screw yourself, bitch. I bet you're good at it." Dean grunted from behind her. "Or do you charge extra for that?"

"You have the worst survival instincts on the planet, do you know that?" The demon narrowed her eyes as she swung around to grab Dean by the throat. "Well, I guess you won't have to worry about them for much longer." She picked him up by the neck and threw him through the blind-covered window like he was a rag doll. He landed in a heap on the sidewalk on the opposite side of the street.

Lizzie jumped up, fast as her bruised wings would allow, and fumbled to grab the demon knife, as the demon sauntered over to Dean's crumpled form.

Dean tried to get up. That was a mistake. The demon sneered at his attempt and flicked her wrist, sending him down to the concrete once more. "Pitiful," She muttered. "Humans are so weak, yet they play with such big toys, don't you think?" She swung her arm dramatically, and a large pickup truck opposite the street from Dean made a horrifying screeching noise as it's tires scraped against the pavement. She motioned her arm again to send the vehicle barreling into Dean.

"You are a slut, aren't you?" Lizzie grumbled as she wrapped an arm around the demon's pale throat and skewered her. "Shut up for once in your life." Her body crackled and fizzed, she obviously had more juice than the previous two demons. She sneered again as she used the last of her breath to send the pickup flying across the road, which would most certainly crush the body it was heading for.

Dean attempted to get up, but he knew the vehicle was moving far too fast for him to get out of it's path. _Shit. I guess this is it, huh? Of all the times I've died, this is going to be the lamest sounding. _He closed his eyes, bracing himself for the inevitable blow, and the grinding sound of bending and breaking metal came as it shot a wave of fierce pain up his leg. But the pain didn't move farther up, like it should have, to pierce his chest and head and send burning stings behind his eyes. He dared open his eyes.

Dean's leg was going to be a mess. Lizzie had tried to avoid that, but her already-injured wings were too strained. She looked down at the longer flight feathers of her right wing, which laid in tatters over Dean's mangled calf. Fortunately, though, she had softened the blow enough that his kneecap was untouched, and his upper calf was probably fine, other than the gashes. Dean looked at her in confusion, then alarm. "Lizzie! Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine." The oozing cuts on her back throbbed in response.

Dean nodded, then added. "Don't do stupid shit like that."

Lizzie smirked. "Sorry, is that your job? In any case, Mr. Stupid, we should probably get out of here. I have to drive, don't I?"

Dean glanced down at his leg, grimacing. "Yeah, I'd say so. I might pass out before we get back to the car."

_I'M SORRRRRYYYYYY! I've been really busy studying for ten million tests and I just haven't been able to have time to write lately. Please forgive me~~ Next chapter will come sooner I promise!_

End Chapter 4


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter 5- Speak of the Devil

_Why do I feel a writing binge coming on?_

"Wait, so what have you been doing here since the Fall?" Sam interrupted, no longer able to hide his concerned curiosity.

Lizzie looked at him blankly. "Well, hanging out with him. Duh, I just told you that." She pointed at Dean.

Dean raised an eyebrow. "Dude, the Fall was over a year ago."

"What?" Her eyes widened. "But that can't be. I swear, I've been keeping track. It's only been a few weeks."

"It's okay, Elizabeth." Cas touched her shoulder reassuringly. "It seems something, or more likely, someone kept you from falling. What we need to do now is reorganize ourselves and figure out why and for what purpose."

Sam nodded. "That's a good idea, Cas. The first thing we should do is hit the books, and see if anything comes up. That may just give us a lead."

Dean turned to his brother. "Excuse me, Gung Ho, but not an hour ago you were on the verge of kicking her out the door. Why the change in heart, Sammy?"

Sam rolled his eyes at the childish version of his name and was about to respond when a loud rapping sounded from the top of the stairs leading out of the bunker. "Did someone just knock on our door? You have to admit, that's a little weird."

Dean shrugged. "Yeah, that's weird as hell, but we might as well answer it." He grabbed his pistol off the kitchen table and proceeded to walk up the stairs, holding down the joy that he could finally scale them once more.

Upon reaching the top of the stairs, Dean cautiously unlocked the outside door, sliding it open with his gun tucked in the waistband of his jeans.

"Oh, hey, Dean. Long time no see, right?" The voice on the other side of the door said, thick stubble-turning-beard gracing his chin and tired blue-grey eyes looking up at Dean sheepishly.

Dean looked at the short man with shock. "Chuck? What the hell are you... You're alive?" He took his hand off the pistol grip and grabbed him by the shoulders, shaking him slightly. "Dude I haven't seen you in forever, and I figured you bit the dust. You of all people would know how often that happens to people I know. Of course, now that I know you're alive, Sam and I can kill you ourselves. They made a freaking musical, and now they think Cas and I should be a couple. I am so freaking straight, I could be used as a ruler." He shook him again, a bit harder this time.

"Um, I'm sorry?" Chuck shrugged. "Hey, somehow they also got on Amazon. It wasn't my idea..."

Dean shook his head. "Let's hope for your sake it wasn't your idea. Anyway, is there really any point in asking how you found this place?"

"I'd say not really."

"Alright, then a better question is what the hell are you doing here?"

"Dean, who is it?" Sam could be heard trotting up the steps, and he nearly wiped out on the last one when he saw Chuck. "Chuck, is that you?"

"Oh, hey Sam. Hey, Castiel." Chuck nodded at their arrival. "Well, I'm here for a particular reason. One that you may not exactly like, but before you go arguing with me about his presence-"

"Just, spit it out already, Chuck." Dean snapped.

"Alright, but I guess I'll have quite a bit of explaining to do, won't I?" Chuck stepped to the side, revealing his little car parked at the side of the road. The horrifying part that twisted the insides of everyone there was who was leaning against it, blowing on a dandelion nonchalantly.

"Chuck." Dean managed. "Is that who I hope it is? Or who I think it is?"

"I have a feeling it's the second one," Chuck mumbled, almost apologetic.

Lucifer walked up to the door, arms out at his sides as if to hug someone, looking Sam straight in the eye. "Sammy! Long time no see. Did you miss me?"

Sam stiffened. "You can't be here. You're in the cage." He said automatically, as a mantra of sorts.

Lucifer wagged his finger. "Correction, Sammers, I _was_ in the cage. Didn't you miss me? We had so much fun together, and I even helped you save your brother from that psycho, remember?" He sighed when Sam made no move or sound, lowering his arms. "Alright, so putting you in the nuthouse wasn't the nicest thing I've ever done, but hey, it all turned out all right."

Sam's eyes widened slightly. "How do you know that?"

"What, did you think that was your own crazy? You just happened to take a little bit of me with you when you left the cage, a souvenir of sorts. Of course, that piece got filtered back to me when Cassie took it, because obviously he's just not as awesome as you are."

"Lucifer, I told you to be courteous to Sam." Chuck stated.

"I was attempting to be, dad." Lucifer looked at him sideways. Chuck gave him the sternest look he could muster, and Lucifer sighed, turning back to Sam. "Sorry, Sam."

Dean couldn't help it. He burst out laughing. Sam looked at him like he'd lost it, Chuck managed a grin, and Lucifer just look deflated. Cas, however hadn't moved since he climbed the top step with Sam. He was looking at Chuck, his head tilted to the side in that way Dean found somehow adorable.

"Is something funny, Dean?" Lucifer asked, a polite smile on his face, but his eyes read murder.

"Sorry, but I thought I just heard Satan apologizing to my little brother." Dean replied when he recovered. Lucifer rolled his eyes.

Lizzie rushed up the steps to see what was going on. "What are you guys even- Luci?" She halted mid-stride, staring at the older brother standing in the doorway.

Lucifer smiled at her, a real smile. "Hey, Liz. How have you been doing?" She didn't answer, but he gladly accepted her tackle hug.

Sam had stepped back to let Lizzie through and was now standing beside Cas, looking freaked out. "I'm sorry, what the hell is going on here?"

Chuck shuffled uncomfortably. "Well, Sam, I think that would be better to not explain in the doorway, huh?"

"Okay, we're all comfortable?" Sam asked. Chuck, Cas, Lizzie, Dean, and Lucifer were all sitting at the kitchen table. Dean had reluctantly agreed to share a bag of Doritos he had found in the pantry with Lucifer, who had promised to behave himself as he sat beside the hunter. Lizzie had Lucifer on one side of her, and Cas on the other, who seemed to be content just for being in her general vicinity. On the other side of the table sat Chuck, who looked a bit nauseous for the attention he was getting. Sam sat down beside him. "I'll take that as a yes. Alright, Chuck. Explain what in the world is going on, and how _he-" _He pointed to Lucifer, who looked at Sam with a hurt expression as real as fake diamonds. "is even here."

Chuck shifted in the dark wooden dining chair he was sitting in as he leaned on the table with his elbows. Lucifer dramatically crunched on one of the orange chips with anticipation. "Well, I suppose i should let the cat out of the bag." He exhaled noisily as he dragged a hand through his already messy hair. He hesitated a few minutes more. "Well, I'm not exactly sure how to put it, but-"

"He's dad." Lucifer interrupted, finishing the sentence.

"Wait, what?" Dean asked, turning the upper portion of his body towards Lucifer. "He's your dad?"

"Yep."

"Well, wouldn't that make him-" Dean swore under his breath. "Jesus Christ, God has made me the gay target of a large population of freaky fanatics."

Sam rolled his eyes. "You're actually, like the real God?"

Chuck nodded, like it was something to be ashamed of. "Yes, I am. Please don't bow for me or try to throw your shoes at my feet. That scares me."

"Um, sure thing." Sam said with a confused look. "I shall keep my shoes on my feet. But, if you're _God_, why were you posing as a lowly prophetic writer with commitment issues and alcoholism?"

"It's nice to know you think so highly of me, Sam." He shrugged it off when Sam tried to apologize. "It's okay, it's not a big deal. So, yeah. I'm God."

"You never thought to mention this when Lucifer and Michael were about to destroy the world? Or perhaps when I was looking for you?" Cas spoke with what little anger he could express without physical violence. "Or maybe when I was pleading for your advice before I tried to become a god myself? A 'heads-up' may have been nice when the Leviathans were attempting to take over the world, and you of all people should have known whether or not to trust Metatron. Should I even bother mentioning-"

"Cas, give the guy a break." Dean cut in.

Castiel was offended. "Dean. Do you know how much corruption and chaos could have been adverted had he not disappeared?"

"Okay, so he's not Father of the Millennium or whatever. I get it, Cas, I really do, but there's no point in getting worked up about stuff you can't change now. It got fixed, didn't it?"

Castiel abruptly stood up, his chair almost falling over behind him. "At the cost of many lives, Dean. And how many more lives will the next catastrophe cost? Or the one after that? And how many of those lives will die by my hands?" He shook his head. "You don't understand, Dean. Your father was merely looking out for you, but ours just abandoned us and left us to our own devices. Look how that turned out." He stalked out of the room.

Chuck sighed and suddenly found one of the dents in the table, which had probably been formed some time ago by Dean slamming something down on it, very interesting. "He does have a point, you know."

"Yeah, well that doesn't mean he can't calm down about it. Sam, are you seriously just going to glare at the Devil?"

"You may blind yourself with my charm." Lucifer smirked. Sam snorted and rolled his eyes.

Chuck sighed again. "I think it's time I step up and take control. I should fix things."

"You could start by getting rid of him." Sam replied.

"Actually, that's the exact opposite of what I'm going to do. You two need to learn to play nice, and Heaven needs to be fixed, too. So you know what I'm going to do?"

Lucifer shrugged. "Obliterate these morons and let the angels take over?" Lizzie narrowed her eyes at him and poked him with her elbow in disdain.

"No," Chuck said, with some sort of newfound boldness. "You are going to decide what should be fixed."

Lucifer choked on a chip. He had stolen the bag from Dean a while back. "What? I have no idea what you mean by that."

Chuck looked him straight in the eye. "You are currently the only angel with both wings and grace. As such, I'm choosing you to represent all of the angels. If you can learn to love humans like I asked you to in the first place, then I will reopen the Gates and fix all of the angels wings."

Lucifer had both eyebrows raised. "And if I don't?"

"Then Heaven will be closed permanently, and you get thrown back into the cage." Chuck said simply.

"So, does this mean I can't kill them?" Lucifer asked.

"No."

"How about turning them into demons?"

"No."

"Can I at least screw with Sam?"

"No."

"What exactly is the purpose of this?"

"This is your second chance, Lucifer, and all of the angels depend on your change of heart."

Sam looked like he had just watched a rabbit rip the limbs off of a wolf with it's teeth. "How do you suppose you'll keep an eye on him?"

Chuck thought for a moment. "You three can look after him."

Dean cringed inwardly. "I was afraid you were going to say that."

"Hold on, what do _I _get out of this if I succeed?" Lucifer asked, evidently as flustered as the Winchesters.

"You get to be a real archangel again." Chuck replied.

"How is that any fun if Gabriel and Raphael are already dead and Mike is still in the cage?"

"I did say I'd fix _all_ the angels." Chuck said mysteriously.

Lucifer looked rather peeved, but Chuck gave him a stern glare, and he gave up. "Alright, fine. Just to prove that I can do whatever I want to, I accept your test."

Chuck exhaled in relief. "Thank you. Now, I should go. I should probably go disarm Metatron before he goes and destroys something extremely important again." He shook his head. Lucifer, if I hear you were being rude to Sam..."

"Yeah, I got it. We'll be best buddies, right Sammy?" He grinned at the younger Winchester, who just sighed and stood up from the table.

_Hey, look, a very tiny Destiel moment. I don't know if you guys want Destiel, but if you do, just tell me or something. And also, this isn't too long after the last update. Yay! _

End Chapter 5


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter 6- Sick Leave

_Chuck got a bit macho last chapter, didn't he? I kinda liked it. Chuck is awesome. Also, I don't know if this seems obvious or not, but this is set like mid-season 10, so just fyi. Sam is the stable one this year. _

"Has anyone seen Cassie recently?" Lizzie yawned. Chuck had left in his little car to go scold more angels or something, and Sam was currently trying to figure out what to do with Satan living in the bunker.

"Well, I guess he'll need a room, which we don't have a shortage of." Dean suggested as he rummaged through the fridge for a beer.

Sam nodded, a little nervously. "Nowhere near mine, though. I would like to sleep without having to constantly worry about-"

"Alright, alright, keep your panties on, Sam. He can have the room at the end of the hall near mine, okay?" He shook his head as he handed Sam one of the bottles. "Dude, I understand. I wouldn't want Michael in the room next to me either."

"Hey, can I have a beer?" Lucifer gave Dean Bambi-eyes.

"Dude, no offense, but you are the weirdest angel I have ever met. You actually eat." Dean mentioned as he handed Lucifer the beer in his hand and turned back to the fridge to get another one.

Lucifer shrugged. "Well, the other angels think they're superior, and no offense but we are, but that doesn't mean you guys don't have cool things or whatever. Of course, most of the things I find cool about you guys your little ex-angel buddy calls 'dens of inequity'." He smirked at the name.

Lizzie walked into the kitchen with a concerned frown. "No, guys, I'm serious. I have no idea where Cassie is. Do you know where he could've gone?"

Dean lowered the beer bottle from his lips. "You can't find him? Have you tried the library?"

"Yeah, it was one of the first places I looked. He couldn't have left without you noticing, could he?"

Dean shook his head. "No, his car would be parked by the door. I've tried telling him he could park it in the garage if he wants, but he keeps saying something about not wanting to be a burden or anything. The only other door I know of is the front one." He hooked his thumb in the direction of the main door, which couldn't be accessed without the notice of whoever was in the kitchen.

Sam set his beer down on the kitchen counter. "We should go look for him then."

Dean nodded, setting his down beside Sam's. "Yeah, he could be having one of his episodes again."

"Episodes?" Lizzie asked worriedly. Dean didn't seem to want to respond though, so she followed him down the hall instead.

"Woah, this place is pretty wicked. How'd you find it, Sammers?" Lucifer asked. He had followed Sam down the hall opposite the one taken by Dean and Lizzie.

Sam paused mid-stride and turned around, making the shorter man nearly run into him. "You know, I don't consider you a friend. I don't have any trust in you whatsoever, and actually your presence kind of bothers me. A lot. But in any event, because Chuck is my friend and he seems to think that somehow you have a heart in that soulless abyss in your chest, I will put up with you. Hell, I'll even give you a second chance. But I'll give you fair warning right here and now: You are not my friend. If you wish to be my friend, you have to earn that, just like everyone else. I'm not going to give you a free pass because you're an archangel, or because you're Satan, or because you hold the weight of every angel in existence on your shoulders. We all have responsibilities too, but you need to work hard to earn my faith, okay? And for your information, my name is Sam."

Lucifer cleared his throat, probably in an attempt to keep his anger under control. "Alright. Sorry." He said curtly. He managed to remain silent as he continued to follow Sam through the seemingly endless halls of the compound.

"So what's this about his 'episodes'? What's wrong with him?" Lizzie asked.

"Look, I'm not trying to be rude or anything, trust me, but it's not my story to tell. He should be the one to decide whether he wants you to know." Dean stopped, coming to an intersection of two halls. He looked down each of them, and he groaned as he inspected the one to his right. A small trail of blood dotted the otherwise spotless floor. "Shit. Cas!" He sprinted down the hall, finding the trench-coated angel collapsed on the floor, his body racked with coughs that made Dean's chest hurt just hearing them. Sitting on his haunches, he instinctively placed a hand on Cas' back. "Dude, are you okay?"

"I'm fine." Cas whispered hoarsely when he finally recovered from his coughing fit.

"Yeah, I'll believe that one when you convince Crowley to show up at our door wearing a French maid's outfit." Dean chuckled. Cas managed a small grin. "Is there something I can do for you?"

"Unless you could manage to somehow restore my grace, I don't think so." Cas thought on it for a second. "Although, I would be grateful for some water."

Dean shook his head. "Dude, you live here too, or you would if you'd stop being so humble or whatever. Come on, let's get you up, huh?"

After everyone had been reassembled and they got Cas sitting at the kitchen table with the glass of water he had asked for, Lucifer and Lizzie exchanged a glance.

"Wow," Lucifer whistled. "If I may be so bold, what in my hell happened to you?" He smirked at his own joke. "Cos' uh, that grace isn't looking so hot. I'd call it yours, but evidently it's not."

"No, it's not mine." Cas confirmed solemnly. "In addition, it appears to be disintegrating at a faster rate than the first one was."

"You've been stealing grace from angels?" Lucifer mock gasped. "My, my, Cassie, what a bad guy you've become! I'm so proud." Sam shot him down with a look.

"What happened to _your _grace?" Lizzie looked at Castiel with her big blue eyes, only a shade lighter than his own. Her strawberry-blonde curls cascaded down her shoulders, nearly touching the kitchen table as her palms pressed down on the tabletop.

Castiel sighed. "Well, that is a long story. A chain of events set into motion by my own naivety. Of course, the crux of said story is that I was a fool who trusted Metatron, which led to his theft of my grace."

Lucifer sighed. "Now you have to admit that Metatron is an even bigger bag of dicks that I am. Have you killed him yet?"

Cas shook his head. "No, we have him contained. For now."

"Great. The biggest jackass in history stole your grace. He used it to close the Gates, didn't he?" Lizzie huffed when Cas nodded. "If that's the spell he used it for, then there's going to be a minuscule amount of your grace left, if there's any left over at all. Barely enough to keep you alive, at most."

"So, if there isn't any of his grace left, what can we do?" Dean interjected. "If we yanked out the stolen stuff again, would he stop dying?"

"Why yes, he would stop dying," Lucifer replied. "Simply because in his condition, he'd keel right over if we 'yanked out' the stolen grace. It's the only thing keeping him alive, although it's also what's killing him, ironically enough."

Sam cleared his throat. "_You_ have fully functional grace, Lucifer. In fact, you're the only one here who does. So you could improve his 'condition.'" Sam retorted.

"Apparently I'm a charity now. What, am I supposed to heal babies in my spare time? Oh well, I can make an exception for Liz' favorite pet." Lucifer slapped Cas on the back, making him choke on the water, but when Lucifer went to sit back down, Cas looked far better. "It's only temporary. It'll last a few days at most, he's still disintegrating. Written up your will yet, Cassie?"

"Lucifer, stop it. There's no point in getting pessimistic." Lizzie rolled her eyes. "The way I see it, the best way to fix Cas is for _someone _to straighten up and start caring."

"Because unless I care a whole awful lot, nothing is going to get better, Dr Seuss?" Lucifer teased. At that moment three sets of eyes, respectively Lizzie, Sam, and Dean, glared at him with varying degrees of intensity. "What? Seriously, guys we're going to play the staring game?"

Dean took a step forward with a knife in his hand, obviously pissed. "We could play the stabbing game if you'd prefer that."

"Dean." Sam grabbed him by the shoulder in an attempt to calm him down. "Dean, put the damn knife down." When that didn't work, Sam resorted to a take-down method, leaving Dean half-laying on the table right next to where Cas was hunched over it.

"Are you okay, Dean?" Cas asked.

Dean shook his head like he was dizzy and rubbed his temples with his fingers. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"Okay, I'm curious, what the hell was that?" Lucifer raised an eyebrow at the brothers.

Dean glared at him. "You want to know what that was about? Try this, you jackass." Sam thought he was going to try to hit Lucifer, but he stopped trying to reach for Dean when all he did was roll up his sleeve, revealing the angry red Mark of Cain.

"Is that...? Oh, shit..." Lucifer mumbled, lost in thought. "I'd almost forgotten about that."

"How do you forget you made this freaking thing?" Dean rolled his eyes. "Okay, genius, so how do I get it the hell off?"

Lucifer shrugged. "It'll take some doing, I know that. I didn't make it as a temporary tattoo, in case you haven't noticed. Because let's face it, that was a pretty sweet scene: the first humans, committing the first murders, with the first weapons, shedding the first drops of blood onto the first bits of farmland. It was like a fine wine." He smirked, then sobered unexpectedly. "Of course, now it's on _you. _Which kind of saddens me. Even I wouldn't intentionally cover Michael's true vessel in my handiwork. This never should have happened..."

"Is that an angelic sidestep at saying I'm an idiot or something?" Dean retorted, although he along with the rest of the group was surprised at the melancholy that had suddenly filled the archangel's eyes.

Lucifer shook his head. "No, that's not what I'm trying to say, probably for the first time. What I am trying to convey, though, is that my graffiti being on you just seems like an inexcusable screw-up on my part."

Dean opened his mouth to say something, then closed it, finally deciding on raising his eyebrows in surprise. "Well, I didn't expect Satan to feel bad that I have random uncontrollable urges to kill people, or that I kind of turn into a bloodthirsty demon when I die."

Lucifer looked up. "You turn into a demon when you die?" When Dean nodded, his eyes lit up like those of a crazed inventor. "I didn't even know it did that. I didn't have much of a chance to see what it did. That excites me and makes my stomach turn at the same time."

Sam pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation. "And here I thought we were starting to get somewhere..."

"I think you'll just have to go all out and come up with a plan." Lizzie replied.

"Alright. Fine." Sam stood up straight from leaning against the counter, and walked over to where Lucifer was sitting. The front of the chair he was sitting on was out to the side in a messy, rebellious fashion, so Sam could stand right in front of him, intimidating the already short angel with his massive height and build. "You need to fix heaven so your brothers aren't committing atrocious slaughters all over the countryside. To do that, you need to be nice, and _care _about humans. Viewing my brother as a science experiment, even if he may deserve it from time to time, isn't a stride towards that goal. So will you give it up already? I'm sure you want to spend as little time with us as possible, so why don't you do it in your own best interests?"

"Sam, I'm touched." Lucifer grinned. "Even if I am a little sad that you don't want me around." Sam glared at him. "Alright, I'll try to be nice. I may be a little out of practice, I haven't done it in forever."

Sam groaned. "I give up. Dean, you can stab him. I'm going to bed."

"That's not even funny, you douche." Dean called at Sam's form retreating down the hall. "Bitch. Good work, Satan. Now Sam's gonna be a grumpy jerk all week. And mostly at me." Dean stalked off down the hall too.

Lizzie yawned. "It is getting late, isn't it? Being graceless is a little weird sometimes, isn't it, Cassie?"

"Yes, it does contain it's oddities, although it can be quite fascinating." Cas confirmed.

"What's so great about essentially being a human? They're so fragile and high-maintenance. They need to sleep all the time, and eat, and they die so easily." Lucifer complained. "I don't see any positive points in being a human."

"Well, for one, humans are rather kind and generous to each other, which is a stark contrast to that of our angelic brethren." Cas said reminiscently. "That, and although humans can be subjected to feelings of great pain and loss, they also feel these things which I find to be near indescribable."

Lucifer sighed. "Do you always have to sound like a research report? You need to tone down your vocab a notch, it's so not kitten, dude."

Lizzie laughed at Cas' trademark confused head tilt. "What I believe Cassie is trying to convey in his formal essay way of saying things, is that people are hospitable, and while at times they feel lonely and hurt, they always seem to be able to cheer themselves up with these undeniable springs of hope and compassion. Yes, they feel tired, but waking up from a good night's gives you this wonderful refreshing feeling. Hunger eats away at you from the inside out, but the feeling of being full is almost as enjoyable as taste always was. Cold threatens to make you shiver yourself to pieces, but the feeling of warm rays of sun on your face or the flickering heat of a fire is warming from the heart right to your skin."

Lucifer clapped theatrically. "Another beautiful poem from the universe's best writer. Of course, I've always wondered about this feelings coming from the heart bit. They do realize it's just a pump, right?"

"If memory serves, it partially originates from the Egyptians, who believed all thought was carried out in the heart. Also, these feelings resonate deeply in the soul, which partly eclipses and is therefore easily mistaken for the heart." Cas added.

"Hmm. Well, according to Sam, I have neither a soul nor a heart, so I suppose these feelings can have little hold on me." Lucifer quipped.

"On the contrary," Cas said. "I use to feel them when I was an angel, although not on the same magnification as when I became a human. In addition, I believe Hannah developed feelings of some sort for both me and all of the vessels angels use, which led to her willing ejection out of her vessel, after which she fled back to heaven." He sighed.

"Ooh, Hannah has the hots for our little Cassie?" Lucifer looked up at Lizzie, who was now sitting at the table with her chin held up by her hand. "They grow up so fast," He sniffled.

"Well, I think our 'little Cassie' needs to sleep, huh?" Lizzie looked at Cas, who had bags under his eyes. She stifled a yawn herself.

"Yes, that would probably be a good idea." Cas mumbled as he got up from his chair to put his glass in the sink. "You know, we forgot to ask Father why you had your grace drained instead of your wings clipped." He mentioned.

Lizzie looked surprised. "You're right. I'd totally forgotten to ask him. Then again, our Father showing up at the door with Lucifer is about as expected as Dean's mother showing up at the door with his brother Adam."

Cas shrugged as the glass clinked softly against the stainless steel basin of the sink. "I suppose that's true. It's unfortunate though, who knows when we'll get another chance to ask him." He then took Dean and Sam's empty beer bottles off the counter and placed them in the sink as well, making himself look OCD. Lucifer's was nowhere to be found. "Of course, I've found over time that there's little point to worrying about something you can't fix in the near future. We should all really get some rest."

"Yeah, we should. C'mon, Luci, we need to find you a place to crash anyway."

_I'm not sure if that chapter was any good. It seemed sort of random to me... Sorry about that. I think the next chapter will have more fluffy-type stuff and character buildup in it, cos I'm not quite satisfied with that either. Also, sorry it took so long. I was being lazy again._

End Chapter 6


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